


Nurtured By Nature

by Markala



Series: Distorted Horizons [1]
Category: Marvel, X-Men, X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men Evolution
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Child Abuse, Comfort Food, Dehumanization, Family Fluff, Feral Behavior, Gen, Giant Mama Wolves kicking ass, Growing Up, Huddling For Warmth, Minor Injuries, Mother-Son Relationship, Nature, Nightcrawler Feels, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Serious Injuries, Starvation, Survival, Threats of Violence, Violence, Winter lots of winter, does being raised by a Giant Sapient Wolf make you a feral child?, its for survival though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:44:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1683821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markala/pseuds/Markala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fate is often a harsh and cruel mistress, dashing lives, destroying hopes, and leaving those in its wake unable to do more than gather up the pieces. One is cast adrift to a sea of change, in the wake of one's crushing failure, without warning or quarter, and oft expect to perish. But sometimes, Fate can be kind, and every once in a while, Fate will throw the dog a bone. (AU Nightcrawler Origin Story)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED: 4/18/2015 (changed title & minor tweaks/corrections)

**_Log Entry 480: DAY 2  
_ ** _Mission was a bust, squad’s dead, universe was doomed, blacked out, then woke up in the middle of the woods a few days ago. Turns out I’m not dead after all, not sure how to feel about that._

 _I must catalogue all that I remember, will list important things as follows:_  
_-I am Saarloos_  
_-I am a female Wolfshund hybrid of the Canine Kingdoms_  
_-I had 1 litter of three (Zuul, Agnes, and Elise)--- they are dead_  
_-my squad had six members: myself, Dawes, Mamoru, Crow, Holly, and Renard (we were the sixteenth squad, also known as the Savage 6)_  
_-we worked for the Pack Protectorate, who tried to become Gods and destroy the universe in the process, and we became fugitives trying to save the world_  
_-as far as I know, we failed_  
_-my team is dead_  
_-I still have my bag(very singed), though it only contained my journal, a metal pen, my harness, and the charm the Renard gave me._  
_-my Talent still works, but I’m still weak  
_ _-I don’t know where I am or how I got here_

_INJURIES: All ribs are cracked; legs ache, multiple sprains in legs are most probable, more scratches and bruises than I care to count, and massive nausea and disorientation upon awakening after the Event._

_Found what looks to be an abandoned farmland, and am staying in the old house, will have to hunt for food soon._

_Drank from the old stock pond, got sick, now I feel like shit.  
_ _- **S**_

 **** _Log Entry 481: DAY 5  
_ _Couldn’t risk drinking from old stock pond again, never again. Found a river 6 furlongs away, drank and rinsed fur because being caked in dirt and blood (mine and my enemies) isn’t any fun after a few days. Explored the rest of the remains of the farm today, tried for squirrels but I still can’t run very fast, ate some greens and roots I dug up.  
_ _-S_

 ** _ Log Entry 482: DAY 9  
_** _Caught some birds and fish, aggravated my ribs and shoulder, hurts like being trampled. Found a hard road, like to imperial roads, but it’s black and it smells like burnt tar. Will explore further at a later date; injuries are acting up.  
_ _- **S**_

 **_ Log Entry 483: DAY 11  
_ ** _Found metal signs along the road; curious, metalwork is really expensive, why would there be a bunch in the middle of nowhere? Why not a Stone Marker? Or wood? The language is entirely foreign, I can’t read it at all. Almost got run over by what looked like a very fast cart, it smelt of metal, oil fumes. What Kingdom is this?_

 _Will search for civilization more tomorrow, much of the day is spent looking for food. (Fish, birds, roots, and greens).  
_ _- **S**_

 **_ Log Entry 484: DAY 15  
_ ** _Found civilization today, a town, but its inhabitants are the likes of which I’ve never seen before. They remind me of Chimps from the Primate Kingdoms, but the Natives are mostly hairless, walk exclusively upright, at an average I come up to a few inches below their shoulders of an adult in terms of height, and their language is strange. The language is like Old High, but the verbs, grammar and names of things are garbled to the Pits, joy of joys._

_Scared one of the Natives today, it ran away._

_I think I’ll call the natives Flatfaces, because, well, the name speaks for itself.  
_ **_-S_ **

**_ Log Entry 485: DAY 17  
_** _Tried to speak to a Flatface for directions, it fled. I tried again, worse results, it included very loud screeching and rocks.  
_ _- **S**_

 ** _ Log Entry 485: DAY 18  
_** _It was a mistake to contact the Flatfaces, they have small hand-cannons and have attempted to kill me. I haven’t seen Hand-cannons since my last visit to the Primate Kingdoms, and the Flatfaces’ weapons seem to shoot tiny pellets of metal at extremely high speeds that I’ve never seen hand-cannons reach. But they aren’t very good hunters, but their attempts to kill me are getting a bit irritating, and their weapons are nothing to sneeze at (which probably makes up for their poor hunting skills). But I can hear and smell them coming from furlongs away, so I still have the advantage.  
_ _- **S**_

 _**Log Entry 486: DAY 24**  
_ _Ate some sort of weasel-thing, and wounds are getting better. Limp's almost gone.  
_ _-_ **S**

 **_ Log Entry 487: DAY 52  
_ ** _I have come to a disquieting revelation today._

_All the Races’ equivalents(including mine) here aren’t sapient._

_I remember Renard attempting to explain the concept to the rest of the squad, but none of us taking him too seriously (it still hurts to think of them, any of them). I found another dog today, but in its eyes it was nothing but an animal, a happy, domesticated animal (which I observed later), rather intelligent, but still entirely non-sapient._

_I have observed the same phenomenon with cats and foxes as well. I also watched more Flatfaces, from a distance._

_After several weeks of recon, I conclude that there aren’t any other sapient species inhabiting this area other than its Flatfaces. While my species and all the known Races are decidedly non-sapient, they are intelligent to a degree though, as much as a non-sapient being can be anyways and_ _the Races’ animal equivalents are **much** smaller than their sapient counterparts, like kissing cousins or something, a bit unnerving._

_The hunters are also getting more persistent, I took a pellet to the leg a few days back. Pulling it out hurt like the Pit._

_What a shitty day.  
_ **_-S_ **

**_ Log Entry 488: DAY 55:  
_ ** _Found a ‘world’ map at what looks like a publicized camping ground, it looks nothing like the Countries._

 _I have a sinking feeling, and I can’t shake the disquiet. I don’t like it.  
_ **_-S_ **

**_ Log Entry 489: DAY 57  
_ ** _Still no signs of the other Races, or anything resembling the Countries or even their existence. Still can’t read the Flatfaces’ language/s, and the hunters are becoming a real pain in the rump._

_Good news of the day, my Talent’s gaining strength again, which is good._

_I wish I could think of other good things about my situation.  
_ **_-S_ **

**_ Log Entry 490: DAY 65  
_ ** _Nearly killed by the Natives again, they’re really becoming a nuisance._

_Depression has definitely set in, I have been trying to avoid thought about the team, as well as the feeling of failure._

_I have concluded that the Flat-faces are the only sapients around this area, and judging by their maps, the Countries don’t exist. I thought about Renard’s Talent when it fused with the Event nexus… It makes my head hurt.  
_ **_-S_ **

****_ Log Entry 491: DAY 67  
_ _Everything is gone, I’ve lost everything.  
_ _-S_

 _**Log Entry 492: DAY 76**  
_ _Why bother anymore?  
_ **_-S_**

 _**Log Entry: 493: DAY 80**  
_ _I miss my squad, and my pups. Even Holly's stupid jokes.  
_ _-_ **S**

 **_ Log Entry 494: DAY 88  
_ ** _It’s gotten colder, winter’s setting in._

 _What’s the point? Everything and everyone that mattered is gone, why am I still here?  
_ **_-S_ **

**_ Log Entry 495: DAY 95  
_ ** _Some sort of Carnival or traveling show has parked right outside of the town, it brings the Flatfaces and their young to cluster throughout the day. There is a large tent in the center and cages and other smaller tents._

_The fat, male Flatface seems to run the show, given the way all the workers and performers defer to him when he raises his voice, which he does a lot. The show also has a lot of cages for sideshow attractions, with animals of different kinds, and bright colors of the likes I’ve never seen before._

_I kept my distance.  
_ **_-S_ **

**_ Log Entry 496: DAY 96  
_ ** _I have taken to eating the discarded food on the Circus grounds at night, most overly sweet things, not any good substitute for meat or even roots, but it’s something to fill the belly._

_I saw a strange creature today, it didn’t resemble the other Flatfaces at all. It smelt male, with yellow eyes, pointed ears located on the sides of its head, an unkempt mane of almost-black hair, with digitigrade legs that ended in two large toes, tridactyl hands and a spaded tail, the creature’s entire body bedecked in dark blue fur. The Creature was kept in a cage barely large enough for it to sit up, and it was rather small, around the size of one of the Flatfaces’ young, and the cage sat in the middle of what I assume to be some sort of a zoo. It woke up and saw me, and it just stared. I left it a couple of squirrels, the Creature was skin and bones, don’t they feed their animals?_

_I debate on the Creature’s possible sapience, but I’m probably just biting at straws.  
_ **_-S_ **

_**Log Entry 497: DAY 98**  
_ _Left the Creature more food today, but the Creature is thinner today, I can count its ribs, and I can see signs of abuse. Scars, and an acrid scent that can only be acquired by lying in one’s own piss and shit, I could even smell the beginnings of infection. Animals or not, the Circus owner should take care of his assets, it was awful._ _Something about that place makes me uneasy.  
_ **_-S_**

 **_ Log Entry 498: DAY 99  
_ ** _The Creature is sapient._

_It was only a scant few words, but it spoke, and the language is the same as the Flatfaces, it’s, no, **he’s** not allowed out of his cage. He reminds me of Zuul._

_The Fat Flatface beats him, and for what reasons I can only wonder. It’s only a pup, his place was not in a cage to be poked and starved to death for the pleasure of others!_

_This kind of shit is **intolerable**.  
_ **_-S_ **

**_ Log Entry 499: DAY 100  
_ ** _I killed the Fat Flatface today, by ripping out his throat and then twisting his neck until his head popped off._

_I released the animals as a distraction and opened the Pup’s cage. Since the Circus proved to be inadequate caretakers I’ll take him, carrying the Pup proved difficult due to the lack of a graspable scruff, so I carried him on my back._

_The Pup was reluctant to follow me, but came to me after some coaxing, and is generally very skittish, which made washing him in the river a bit more difficult. I can understand though, the wariness will go away soon, I hope. We still can’t understand each other’s languages, though, which is something I’ll have to work through._

_His wounds required cleaning and covering but the infections on multiple cuts needed much licking and chewed various herbs that I’ve found taste the same as the ones back home._

_Today was a good day, I have a new pup!  
_ **_-S_ **

**_ Log Entry 500: DAY 110  
_ ** _The Pup calls himself Kurt. Kurt won’t eat the meat I give him though, and the first snow fell today._

_Are Flatfaces are herbivores?_

_Kurt eats everything else I give him though. Have started digging up orange-roots from gardens in scattered farms to stimulate mother’s milk, have lost count how many I’ve eaten.  
_ **_-S_ **

**_ Log Entry 501: DAY 124 _ **

_I’m happy today, Kurt talks more, and eats more. I stole some blankets from town, for winter, and even convinced Kurt to eat the rabbit I caught. It took even more coaxing to get him to nurse, because any supplement would help, the game’s disappearing quicker and quicker by the day.  
_ **_-S_ **

**_ Log Entry 502: DAY 131  
_ ** _Kurt ate his fish today, and is steadily gaining weight(GOOD THING). His fur isn’t very thick and he gets cold more easily than I do (BAD THING), so I snagged garments from town to cover him up, I finally noticed that the Flatfaces all wear clothes, all the time. Even the Primate Kingdoms Natives’ didn’t wear clothing **that** often. It’s weird._

 _Kurt and I have settled into a routine, that begun with breakfast foraging and hunting, forest runs, and ended with him curling up into my bellyfur with a blanket and sleeping.  
_ **_-S_ **

**_ Log Entry 503: DAY 132  
_ ** _Kurt goes on runs with me, and has taken to riding on my back during our particularly long treks. He shows amazing dexterity and agility, and has very silent strides. Very good traits to have in a world most likely racist to a frightening degree (how else can I explain the cage?) I still don’t have any concrete intel to how this place works._

 _I’ve come up with the idea that I’m probably in another world or universe, somehow coming to the conclusion doesn’t feel very comforting.  
_ **_-S_ **

**_ Log Entry 504: DAY 133  
_** _I cried last night, and I think I worried Kurt. I realized that I may never see home today, I need to hunt, clear my head. Kurt’s fallen asleep, I’ll be back soon Pup.  
_ _- **S**_

 **_ Log Entry 505: DAY 134  
_ ** _Kurt ate his rabbits and squirrels today, I’m so proud. I took him root digging before the woods are completely covered in snow._

 _Kurt is picking up words quickly, though he still doesn’t talk much. I’m picking up his language slower, he’s also picking up some of my Old High, but we can talk in simple sentences.  
_ **_-S_ **

**_ Log Entry 506: DAY 136  
_ ** _Winter has set in, full force. Snow is everywhere and Kurt plays, I got a deer, with plans to smoke it, cooked food can be traveled with after all. Kurt was very excited for the fire, it’s very warm._

_Making a smoking rack was just as tedious and difficult as I remember, the only thing I ever envied Primates for were their opposable thumbs and I still do. My Talent, mouth and paws only get me by so far on dexterity._

_Kurt helped me by tying knots, his fingers and thumbs are much better at that kind of thing.  
_ **_-S_ **

**_ Log Entry 507: DAY 138  
_ ** _Been going farther and farther in search of game, and sneaking into town more often to pick up more of the language. Both Kurt’s still thin and I’ve gotten thinner, game’s been scarce and the river’s frozen over._

_I’ve taken to stealing more from the town, managing quite a few close calls, but I have a Pup to feed and the Natives are as hostile as ever. Kurt even has a little satchel of his own now, though he’s taken to carrying mine as well like a sworn duty. Due to my excursions to town, he now has a small collection of soft tunics, pants, and a few little books I still can’t read worth a damn._

_Kurt has initiative, good. He also knows to wait patiently and not leave the farm until I come back.  
_ **_-S_ **

_**Log Entry 508: DAY 141**  
_ _Kurt and I have eaten through the smoked deer and the marrow, no scraps; must hunt tomorrow.  
_ **_-S_**

 **_ Log Entry 509: DAY 177  
_ ** _No game, no fish, no vegetables to scavenge, and the ground’s too frozen to find roots, we’ve been eating the things I can steal. Getting harder to wake up in the mornings, will probably both starve if this keeps up. Have been giving most of my portions to Kurt, I think he’s noticed. I don’t like it when my pups look guilty for eating when they can._

_Kurt knows I’m starving, he refused his portion today. I snapped at his heels and at his fingers, made him eat. He won’t end up like Zuul, he won’t, I won’t let him._

_We’ve taken to chewing the deer bones.  
_ **_-S_ **

_**Log Entry 510: DAY 197**  
_ _I killed the hunters, they took Kurt and almost killed him. I gave them no mercy, they threatened my Pup. I killed them quickly, and there’s food tonight. The Flatfaces tasted very strange, but we avoided the brains, because Primate brains back home could give sometimes caused Laughing Disease (no chances taken). No remorse from where our dinner came from tonight.  
_ **_-S_**

 **_ Log Entry 511: DAY 202  
_ ** _We’re going to move soon, my thievery and the missing hunters has not gone unnoticed. Have already packed all of Kurt’s things and am stocking up travel food through hunting and stealing, mostly bread, rabbits, hidden squirrels(as well as stealing the hidden nuts), and after we get some big game, we’ll leave._

_The hunters’ meat is going quicker than I’d like, though._

_Kurt’s been clingier, lately it’s probably the cold, note to self: find Kurt warmer garments.  
_ **_-S_ **

**_ Log Entry 512: DAY 210  
_ ** _Brought down a larger sort of deer a few days ago, it had wide antlers, a dark brown pelt, and larger hooves, it was much more violent that a deer. It was actually genuinely terrifying to have a deer much taller than me try to run me over and gore me. I think I cracked a couple of ribs._

_I call them Widehorns._

_It took much longer to smoke and process. But for the past three days we’ve been eaten like Kings. Things are good.  
_ **_-S_ **

**_ Log Entry 513: DAY 214  
_ ** _We bid the farm where we’ve been staying farewell, and left. I would prefer somewhere where Kurt and I wouldn’t get chased by overzealous hunters._

_Kurt called me Mother today, or something like that, if I’ve gotten the general impression right. He started calling me **‘Mutti.’** _

_I will protect my new pup, a no-one will take him away_ _. _He is getting stronger and smarter by the day, he won’t end up like my litter.__

_He won’t._

_It feels good to be a mother again.  
_ **_-S_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONWARD!


	2. Heaven Sent a Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt is dealt a bad hand from Life's dealer, then given an Ace when he least expects, and a journey begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been trying to fight off an oncoming cold for the past few days, and it’s really kicking my ass. I just saw the ‘X-Men: Days of Future Past’ movie and it was AWESOME! Anyways, I bring forth the effort, woot. Fic is rated for violence, dark imagery, language, imperiled children(it’s an origin story, duh) and all that dark stuff(I realize what a morbid person I am) Have fun everybody. Don't own anything, franchises are owned by Marvel and whatever else companies own 'em.

Kurt remembered very little of his parents, in his dreams his mother possesses a warm embrace and a gentle voice that used to sing to him; of his Father he remembers a kind face, belly-deep laughter, and wonderful stories.

The details of their faces however, remained obscured by memory, almost enough to make the child wonder if they’d ever been real.

Before Kurt had come to the Circus, he had precious few memories of his Mama and Vati, and their house. He remembered peeking at the outside world through tightly shut curtains and shutters, and the floral print walls of the kitchen. His parents had rarely let him outside, Kurt had always been sure that he would have remembered if they did otherwise. Kurt remembered being different from both his parents, being blue, fuzzy, and with strangely formed hands and feet, Kurt supposed that due to his very young age he never questioned it.

Around the age of two, Kurt remembers a mob of angry people, a fire, and screaming.

He remembers the smoke, the fear, Vati lying on the floor in a pool of red, the smell of blood and the screaming of his Mama and the mob outside ringing in his sensitive ears as the flames licked the walls. So much noise, so much fear, then all at once everything was quiet.

One second he was there, in his home as it burned, and the next he was _nowhere_.

Kurt didn’t remember much other than his fear, how lost he’d been, and his tears. Kurt remembered being hungry, tired and lost, wandering around the woods to try to find his way home again. Then a woman called Margali had found him, taken him in, and he ended up joined the Circus.

The other performers had been like a second family to him, with no regard for his monstrous appearance and he was taught by some of the acrobats and they had promised a chance to be included in the act when he get older. He had a home and family again, Kurt had been happy.

Then the new owner came, he bought the whole Circus, and brought a whole slew of changes in the wake of the change in ownership. At first Kurt had paid little attention to the goings on, the hubbub would die down in a month or so, Kurt was wrong.

New performers were hired, and decidedly expendable ones were fired, new attractions were added, and everyone was needed. But when the Boss finally got around to turning his gimlet eyes in Kurt’s direction, he said that Kurt had a place, in the Freakshow.

At first it hadn’t been so bad, until Kurt realized that the cage which he’d been placed was to be his permanent residence. At first his family had complained, stood up, defended him, but eventually were either fired or silenced by the threat of destitution, formal educations among the older performers were scarcer and life in the Circus was all most of them knew.

Kurt wasn’t allowed out of his cage, not even after all the visitors were gone, and the Boss had taken his shirt away. The only time the boy left his cage, was when he made the Boss unhappy, like if he was ‘cheeky’ or ungrateful, and on those days Kurt would have to gingerly avoid pressing his bruises by leaning against the cage bars during the day.

Margali made would bring him food, more water, and a blanket, even though some of the meaner, new performers would eventually steal it. Kurt came to dread the inevitable dark glare of the Boss when he would catch sight of Margali helping him, or any signs of her kindness. Sometimes she would come by all ruffled, huffing with anger and something else that Kurt didn’t know the words for, and when asked, she would just smile tiredly, ruffle his hair, and hug the five year-old through the cage bars.

After Margali would leave, Kurt often wondered what he’d done wrong, what bad thing he’d done to deserve being locked up.

Margali never stopped trying though, Kurt remembered her multiple confrontations with the Boss about Kurt, the screaming matches that seemed to all but escalate into violence. Kurt couldn’t remember how long they went on for, but he remembered when they _stopped_. 

Soon there came the day Margali stopped coming, but more than that, Margali was _gone_.

Kurt remembers that day, when early in the morning, he was dragged bodily from his cage by his tail and both his hands tied to a post outside. Kurt was barely half awake, responding to his rude awakener with a timidly muttered _“vas?”_

The strike was not unexpected, but it was not a fist, but a belt, with a metal buckle that broke the skin of his back.

The child had cried out in pained surprise.

“Animals. Don’t. Speak.” The Boss punctuates each word with another strike, his face red with exertion, and a heavy buckle breaks through more of the skin and fur as the child below cries in pain. The beating that followed, what felt like endless strikes of sharp fire on his back and his legs, resulted in the child weeping as quietly as he possibly could as he lay on the ground, and allowed himself to be dragged back to his cage by one of the other performers.

Kurt doesn’t know how long he laid there on the ground, unmoving, all he knew was that _everything_ _hurt_.

The days that followed seemed uncountable, after his clothes were taken away he was never given new ones, and he was fed little. Kurt wasn’t sure when he’d started to ignore the ache of hunger, and the days would blur together, in a never ending cycle of morning mush and water, when the Circus was open, and Moving Days.

Sometimes the Boss would visit to punish him, Kurt never knew what he did wrong, but he was always sorry. Sometimes Kurt prayed like he remembered doing with his Mother what felt like forever ago, to God, to anyone that would have them.

He stopped talking, because animals don’t speak.

Some days Kurt dreamt that Margali comes back, to take him away with her to somewhere, Kurt would’ve been fine with anywhere but where he was now.

But in the end they always remained just as they were, dreams, and the days dragged onward, until Kurt finally ran out of numbers he knew and could no longer count them.

Never ending.

* * *

It was after closing time, and he was being watched.

It was odd because no-one was ever there after the animal caretakers left, and the night would be silent until opening time unless it was a Moving Day.

Who would watch him?

The child catches a glimpse, a brief flash of a large, silent figure and glinting green eyes in the darkness and then it’s gone, and there are dead squirrels in front of his cage.

By morning, the squirrels are thrown away and then the caretakers had decided that it was a Bath Day and Kurt spends the rest of the brisk autumn day shivering and sneezing and life went on.

* * *

 

A day and a night pass and Kurt is convinced that the figure had been a dream, nothing but another wishful thought.

Then Kurt wakes up to soft scuffling, and to the feeling of being watched.

_But who would-?_

The child turns his yellow-eyed gaze toward the large figure illuminated by the open tent-flap, real as anything, and he is afraid.

Standing in the pale moonlight, was the largest wolf that Kurt had ever seen, larger than any dog, with sharp black claws and glinting eyes of pale green. It’s large, lupine head is accented by its scarred, notched ears and its mouth full of large white fangs.

Had a monster come to eat him? The wolf of his mother’s tales come to life? Had the wolf who ate bad little boys come to finally kill him?

The eight year-old Kurt briefly thinks that it won’t be so bad, that at least he wouldn’t have to live in a cage anymore, he wouldn’t need to eat, _‘yes,’_ he thinks as he closes his eyes and waits, _‘I’d be happier dead.’_

And nothing happens.

Kurt cracks an eye open and catches sight of the wolf walking away, squirrels left again at the foot of his cage.

Morning catches up to him soon enough, the Boss punishes Kurt, and Kurt wishes that the Wolf had never left.

He cries for the first time since Margali left and he doesn't really know why, but it disturbs the caretakers greatly, but Kurt doesn't take any notice.

* * *

 

Animals can’t talk, but the Wolf had _spoken_ , Kurt thinks that the Wolf is a she, because despite the deeper, growly quality, she still _sounded_ female in some way that Kurt wasn’t sure he could describe. Kurt cannot understand her words, but they are words all the same.

The Wolf had come back with squirrels again the next night, and seemed to regard him curiously.

It felt like forever since Kurt had been talked to, not at. He wanted her to speak to him, animals could speak to each other right? It should be alright.

 _“H-Hallo,”_ Kurt voice croaks out in broken German, _“meine Name is-ist K-Kurt.”_

The She-Wolf jerks, as if in surprise to receiving a response, and stares at him, poking her monstrous muzzle through the cage bars and Kurt marvels at the size, his head could easily fit into her jaws with room left to spare. The boy wonders if she was going to bite him, crush his head like an egg, to put him out of his misery, but instead receives a lick to his forehead, before the She-Wolf turns and dashes away without warning.

Kurt regards the empty space where the She-Wolf had stood forlornly remembering that the next evening was a Moving Day, and that meant he’d never see the She-Wolf again. The happiness was not meant to last, _‘not for freaks,’_ Kurt supposed with some finality.

None the less, he didn't sleep very well that night either.

* * *

 

By the next evening, the whole Circus was in chaos when Kurt had woken up from a rare afternoon nap, all the other cages were empty and the animals ran amok.

And there she was, the She-Wolf in broad daylight, whose foreign tongue slipped soothingly out of her blood-spattered muzzle as she grips a corner of his cage with her teeth-

**SHHHCREEEEK!**

-And rips the door clean from its lock and hinges.

Her pelt is a mottled mix of dark and lighter browns, her muzzle and throat are wet with fresh blood and Kurt spends moments wondering if she’d finally come to kill him. But then the She-Wolf lays down upright, her belly to the dirt, and jerks her head, gesturing towards herself.

_Come with me._

The message was clear as day, as the all the Circus hands’ ran around trying to recapture the frantic animals, as the She-Wolf regarded Kurt quietly.

He stares shyly, wide yellow eyes unblinking, as if she would disappear into thin air in a moment's notice.

She gestures again, chuffing impatiently as if telling him to hurry, green eyes glinting warmly.

Kurt snaps out his stupor, and tries to get up, but his legs cramp up after a few steps, their obvious disuse evident, so he crawls out of his cage toward her, but she shuffles closer, and Kurt’s three-fingered hands grasp at the scruff of her neck fur. The child swings a leg over her back as the warmth of her thick fur wafts through his much thinner blue fur, making Kurt feel warmer than he’s been in a long time, maybe even warmer than he'd been before the Boss took away all his clothes.

Then the She-Wolf stands, and Kurt can feel the muscles in her back and shoulders ripple as she trots quickly towards the edge of the forest ahead. Her gait smoothens as the night falls, Kurt half expects the Boss or the caretakers to come and take him back, but surprisingly they are nowhere to be seen.

Kurt doesn’t wonder at whose blood adorns the She-Wolf’s muzzle and throat fur, as he locks his arms around her neck as she walks, and the She-Wolf rumbles quietly.

He didn’t know where the She-Wolf was taking him, but Kurt decided to dwell on this happy dream, for as long as he could make it last, that heaven had heard his little prayers, and sent a beast in reply, as she takes them both further and further into the forest, farther and farther away, travelling well into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Kurt, don’t worry it’s not a dream you poor baby. But yeah, this chapter is in a more traditional format than the first chapter (which btw I’ve edited a bit, so check it out) because I roll like that. Also, yeah, Saarloos is large, and looks even larger because Kurt is a tiny eight year old (two years of being underfed will do that to a growing child you know). Also tell me if I missed some tags other something 'kay? Also, tell me what you think ladies, gents and etceteras, was it good? Bad? Mediocre? Why? What did you like? What did you hate? What did you like to hate? If there were bad things, how can they be improved? Answer those questions be way of review/comment please (if you want to), and if you just love the chapter and just have kind words of encouragement to say then by all means say them, and stay tuned until next time peeps! Ciao!


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